The 100th Annual Hunger Games
by HesMkngUScrmWitHisHndsOnUrHips
Summary: The Fourth Quarter Quell! Come and support the characters and watch as an interesting year unfolds! No Katniss and Peeta
1. Final List

**Congrats to everyone who made it! You all submitted wonderful characters and I'm so very happy with how everything turned out! We can finally begin! District 1 Reaping will be up tomorrow before six! Get pumped! I will be doing one reaping per district. If your character's P.O.V. isn't used for the reaping, it will be for the chariot! I just chose at random. **

**District 1**

Female: Fleur Puissance

Male: Hail Salvador

**District 2**

Female: Ebony Darknight

Male: Prince Salines

**District 3**

Female: Darcy Carr

Male: Rathbone "Rat" Hurwits

**District 4**

Female: Gwylan Thyme

Male: Trigeminus Bellarmine

**District 5**

Female: Winter Kitico

Male: Ibis Keefe

**District 6**

Female: Sarabella (Sabby) Bennett

Male: Lionel Carter

**District 7**

Female: Victoria Boettcher

Male: Shock Coolidge

**District 8**

Female: Meriem DiLaurentis

Male: Ribbon Muse

**District 9**

Female: Mayrose Lockhart

Male: Gregory Appleman

**District 10**

Female: Aria Linial

Male: Percival "Tiber" Tiberius

**District 11**

Female: Roz Tantis

Male: Aren Almia

**District 12**

Female: Liath Erien

Male: Jonas Trenton


	2. District 1 Reaping

**District 1 Reaping: **

**Female: Fleur Puissance**

**Male: Hail Salvador**

I was already awake by the time the sun began to filter through the darkness of the night, a silent alarm that told me to work my way back to the house. I groaned and picked up the pace of my jog until I was bursting through the backdoor and tracking shimmering dust into my brothers' room. Everything here seemed to freaking shimmer. I tugged off my sneakers and slammed my hand carelessly around the wall in search for the light switch.

The lights turned on and I frowned when I caught Lance on his bed twisting some type of silver chain and snatched it before Dad could; "Come on, Lance, you know what Dad would do if he found out you had this."

Lance looked up at me with big blue eyes and it was hard to believe he was really sixteen and not still twelve. I tossed it on to his pillow. My Dad, a Hunger Games victor himself, had only the highest of standards for his children. While my brothers and I were forced to train every day, my sister Lillian was groomed and taught how to present herself in society. Of course, the last thing on Lance's mind was a fight-to-the-death, especially seeing as it was mostly consumed by the art of jewelry making. I couldn't say what had happened, but Lance was about a meek as a mouse and as screwy as a nutjob—and this was something _Daddy_ just couldn't accept.

"Careful with that!" Lance cried, looking it over for scratches due to my "rough handling". With efficacy, I grabbed a pair of pants and threw them on over my shorts.

Jace, who could normally sleep through a bombing, was up and changing into the nicest clothes he had. _After all it is Reaping Day_, I thought bitterly to myself—my hatred of the Hunger Games was about as well kept a secret as who bought up all of District One's luxury items. Jace was pretty big on training and the Games, but he was just a kid, and it was obvious he really wouldn't stand a chance.

Dad had spent the past few weeks feeding Jace some nonsense about how he _must_ volunteer because he would _most definitely_ win. I just wanted to shout that he was only fourteen for Christ's sake.

I peered down at my torn up blue jeans and sweat soaked t-shirt, and found myself completely satisfied—screw the games and screw the Capitol! Why should I get all dressed up to stand in some stuffy crowd where people fought one another for the chance to get themselves killed, "_OOOOooo pick me! I really want to get stabbed with a spear!_" Everything about it was absolutely ridiculous.

I dragged myself into the kitchen, and barely being able to contain my excitement, called out for my siblings to come along. Dad would kill us if we were late.

Lily skipped in from the back door, clutching a handful of feathers. I quirked an eyebrow at her and whilst humming she stashed them with the rest of her collection. She hesitated a moment and quickly grabbed something from the depths of her basket.

"Jace! Lance!" She sang, "We'll be late!" She handed me her ribbon and I tied it in a lopsided bow around her black hair. She grabbed my hand and the four of us exited the house as we had together for many years.

People were congregating not fifteen feet from our door and we plunged into that crowd that smelled of mingling perfumes and sweat and jewelry cleaner. I dropped Lily's hand seconds before she was engulfed in a mass of giggling fifteen-year-old girls.

Jace and Lance had already joined their groups, and Falcon Dietry, our District's mayor, had already begun an introduction. Recounting a_ terrible_ time when people had been strong enough to fight against their oppressors, I tuned out Dietry and entered the Eighteens.

My eyes met my fathers as I scanned the group of officials before us; he looked proud to stand up there as one of our District's many surviving victors. The happiness and excitement on his face as he listened attentively to a story he'd heard forty something times almost made me sick and I don't believe I even noticed when our escort took the microphone.

"Fleur Puissance!" His voice boomed, breaking through my thoughts but just allowing room for others. I knew Fleur from a while back when she'd offered Lance a job helping her parents at their jewelry shop in exchange for me giving her a few lessons on how to wield a knife. Of course, my father eventually found out and made my brother quit, but I'd never seen Lance happier than he was those five weeks.

I hadn't talked to her since our deal had been terminated, naturally, but seeing her nearly two years later, it was like seeing her for the first time. She'd grown a great deal taller and when she turned for a second I caught a glimpse of blue eyes hiding behind her long, blonde hair. Back when we'd been awkward and caught somewhere between a teen and an adult, I don't think I'd given her a second glance, but she'd always been nice.

The crowd was in hysterics by the time I came to realize the Reaping wasn't over, and at the center of the laughter was a stammering fourteen.

"I… I-I-I!" The kid shouted, flustered and red. But his voice was too familiar and his face finally registered.

The escort looked down upon poor Jace and with a false tenderness and questioned, "Do you have something to say?"

But before Jace could gasp in enough air to answer him, I found myself bellowing out the two words I never imagined I would say.

"I volunteer." There was a finality about it, and my feet carried me up to the stage where the officials and Fleur and my father all waited. My Dad beamed at me but all I could think was: _This was your last reaping, your last reaping and you made it, you made it and you screwed it all up. Nice going, Hail. _

**Hey there! I'm so excited for this fic. guys! Only 11 more districts to go! If your character's P.O.V. is not utilized in the Reaping, the Chariot will be told from their P.O.V.! Have no fear! Also, if you could tell me if you liked this? That would be good to know, and if you're actually reading this I've already chosen the top 6 but a winner has yet to be determined. Don't forget I need sponsors, but here's the catch. You must sponsor someone else's tribute, and not your own. **The winner will not necessarily be the tribute with the most sponsors. **


	3. District 2 Reaping

**District 2 Reaping**

**Female: Ebony Darknight**

Male: Prince Salines

(Ebony Darknight's P.O.V.)

Lucas' hand drew mindless circles on the small of my back, and I squeezed my eyes shut on the world coming alive outside of our home. I imagined myself pretending for the rest of my life that I was still asleep—just lying in that bed with Lucas—ignorant of the rest of the District.

I heard a weak knock on the door and sighed, opening my eyes. I jumped from Lucas' grasp, taking him by surprise. "Morning sunshine," He whispered in that raspy morning voice that makes me shiver.

I headed towards the door as Luke stretched on our bed. I opened the door and Belladonna bounced in. Her attempt at tying a red ribbon around her tangled curls made me smile and she jumped into Luke's lap.

"Bella Bee," He grinned at her, "I got you a new dress for the reaping."

At her proud age of 12, Bella attempted to not get excited about something as trifling as a new dress, but when Luke showed her the ruffly red number, her eyes lit up and she began to beam.

She pulled it on over her pajamas, and I zipped up the back. She spun around the room and I whispered a thank you to Luke. He'd turned 19 just last Sunday, escaping another year entered in the Reaping. I made my way to the bathroom and changed quickly, not putting as much maintenance into my appearance, mostly because this was my last year and I was in the safe zone.

Unfortunately, Bella was just starting her turn in the stifling mind game our nation calls the Hunger Games. Thinking about the next six years was almost too much to bear, and I knew what it would be like for a mother to see her baby reaped.

By the time I'd collected my thoughts I reentered the bedroom. Bella sat swinging her legs on my bed. Luke had gone to pay our landlord, Jonathon, this month's rent.

"You ready, Bella?" She nodded exuberantly. Here, the Games was something to look forward to, and I myself had often played with the idea of volunteering. But once my parents passed, and I had to assume the role of Bella's caretaker, there was no thought worse than having it all end up being for nothing. Because, realistically, how much of a chance did a ninety-pound twelve-year-old have against an eighteen-year-old killing machine?

"I hope Erica gets reaped, the other day at training she told me her bow wouldn't shoot straight because my ugly face was propelling it in the other direction!" She rolled her eyes, "Stupid Erica!"

I frowned at her and pulled her to the kitchen were I quickly burned some eggs and tossed them on a cracked plate.

"You don't mean that," I looked to the door for a sign of Luke, but he must've taken the long way back from Jonathon's house, what with the streets so congested.

"Mean what?" Bella questioned, her mouth full of eggs, she'd already moved on.

"What you said about Erica, of course, she might be mean, but you're the better person, ain't that true, Belle?" I grabbed a piece of bread to fill my grumbling stomach and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"You're being such a _grown up _these days, Ebony! It's like you're a mom, and a strict one at that! I'm _practically_ grown too! I'm in the reaping!" She huffed and she puffed until she felt satisfied by her red face and my tired expression.

"Oh fine, Bella, just let me fix your hair, you look like a hot mess." I grabbed her brown ponytail in my hand, forcing the ribbon out of its knot. I retied her bow, but her hair, like mine, was too strong-willed to be tamed.

"Where's Lucky?" She asked, standing up to wash her dish in the sink.

"He's bringing Jonathon the money for next month." Bella's mouth formed an "O" and she dropped the plate carelessly into the sink. I heard the clatter of porcelain on metal.

Bella and I sat down to a game of early morning cards, and of course I let her win, as a genuinely nice person. By the time Luke found his way back to our humble abode, I was about ready to smack him silly. Of course, he charmed me out of it with a flash of that heart-melting grin.

Making our way to the stage, we looked like a pretty picture. We dropped Bella off with the Twelves and Luke grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the cheering mass. His blue eyes stared at me for a second as we walked toward the brick wall of a medicine manufacturer's building.

"Ebony," He said solemnly, "I have a feeling."

Puzzled, I didn't really know how to respond, so I answered instead with the completely appropriate and versatile lip-bite.

"Hear me out," Luke explained, "I feel as if… I feel like it's going to be Bella… or something, like this reaping isn't going to leave us untouched… I didn't go to see Jonathon; I put some money down, you know, to sponsor the female tribute. Just, just in case."

What?

"I just wanted to be safe, it's worth more if you sponsor before the tribute's reaped, you know,"

I felt myself beginning to emit meaningless sounds; we may live in a wealthy district, but Luke knew we didn't have money to play the games with. And what did he think—that our twenty dollars would keep Bella alive by sending her a loaf of bread? That's realistic Luke, nice going there, buddy.

My eyebrows dropped, and I felt my eyes narrow, mimicking Bella's look at breakfast. I stormed away from him, joining the eighteens just as the mayor began his introduction. Unfortunately, I was on the edge of the crowd and Luke came to hold my hand over the barrier between the general crowd and us.

It took around half an hour for our mayor to finish up his dramatic telling of an overworked story, and suddenly a bouncing blonde stole the mic from him.

"Hello, District 2! My name is Eden Wood and I am so excited to get this party started!" The crowd reacted as she'd anticipated, and a tremendous cheer drowned out whatever she had followed with. "Let's start with our lovely ladies!" Eden screeched and suddenly the crowd settled down. Her hand dropped into the ball, and from the depths she pulled out a name.

Smiling at us, Eden struggled to unfold the paper on purpose, and after a minute or two of feigning being unable to make out the name of the first District Two tribute for the 100th Hunger Games—call me paranoid, but I felt a little weird that there'd be no Quarter Quell announcement—Eden opened her glossy mouth and announced: "Ebony Darknight!"

I imagined how terrible this might feel, but for some reason I was oddly satisfied. I'd spent years of training, and it appears that they might amount to something. I turned to face Luke and his blue eyes looked as if I'd already been killed off. "Do whatever you can to come back to me," He whispered, and soon the crowd was shoving me up to the stage.

I could feel myself smiling, but I didn't feel much else. I wondered what Bella was thinking right now. How Luke had known. But that was about it.

Eden made far less of a deal out of the male tribute, and some big tough guy volunteered for the sniffling fifteen that had embarrassed not only our district but probably shamed his family for years. The volunteer's hand wrapped tight around mine and I heard him exhale the name Prince Salines. We'd never met before, but the way he held on to my hand afterward as we made our way off of the stage assured me that I already had an ally.


	4. District 3 Reaping

**District 3**

Female: Darcy Carr

**Male: Rathbone "Rat" Hurwits**

**(Rathbone Hurwits' P.O.V.) **

Uncle Cable pounded his fists against the dented door, "Git up, boy, it's Reaping Day! Make sho' you and your sister are lookin' right befo' you leave, I don' want no people thinking I ain't takin' care of ya'll, and make sure there's a bottle o' likker on the counter before you get!"

Groaning, I pulled my aching body from the ragged blanket I'd managed to get tangled in. I waited until I was sure Uncle Cable and his broken English had returned to bed to sleep off his hangover, and approached my sleeping sister.

Olivia, with her chocolate bob and bright blue eyes, slept innocently, and I hesitated before gently shaking her awake. Her eyes blinked open and she threw her arms about my neck. "Oh, Ratty! Happy haaappy reaping!"

I shook her arms off playfully and pulled out our duffle bag from under the bed. "Well, Liv, I'm not that excited, personally, but whatever floats your boat."

"Even if you were reaped, Rat, you'd beat 'em all no problem. There's nobody tougher than you!" Olivia rose up her skinny arms, flexing her tiny biceps like a muscle man. My hair fell in my eyes as I laughed, and I grabbed a yellow jumper from the very bottom of the bag. I handed it to her before grabbing my own reaping clothes: a white collared shirt and a pair of black dress pants. I tucked the gold necklace under my shirt the way I'd seen Dad nearly every day before he… well, never mind.

We dressed in silence, and Liv asked if I'd help her with the zipper. I pulled the tired thing closed on her bruised body—my jaw tightened. She skipped out of the room and straight through the door without a second thought.

I picked something out of my drawer, and easily caught up with her. We lived some distance away from the square where the Reaping would be held, and unfortunately, this meant passing through the Mell. The majority of the middle class families lived in a tightly packed development known as the Mell, and this meant passing by my classmates.

A group of boys had congregated under the one tree inside of the fence. As Liv and I walked by I noticed the matching chains they wore. If each chain were approximately 30.4 cm long, as they looked from the length, if you included the varying circumferences of their necks, and in total that would be 121.6 cm, which if turned into a conductor would probably allow for an electrical current of—

"Look who it is! Looking good, Rat, when'd you get that shirt, 8 years ago?" The ringleader jested.

"Grade, don't be an ass, I mean, it's in his genes to be a loser. My mom told me his Dad died for the sake of a computer."

The boys exploded into guffaws and Olivia grabbed my hand, pulling us away, "Just two more years and I'll be joining you in the sections."

"Don't remind me," I groaned. "Three more years and I'll get us a new place, and I'll start working at that building that Momma used to clean." The expression on her face told me she didn't remember: "The one with the candy by the door, Liv."

But of course she didn't really remember, the poor girl had only been two when we'd been moved to our uncle's home. Cable, our uncle, was a very sketchy guy, and had, since his brother's death, taken a liking to white liquor. Things had since then, taken a turn for the worst, but I did what I could to endure the nightly beatings.

_Crap_. I'd forgotten to put out the bottle for Cable; hopefully, he'd still be keeled over in the bathroom when I got back.

"Sorry, Ratty, I just don't remember." She sighed, and I smiled down at her. She rubbed her empty belly, "I really could go for a snack,"

"I thought that maybe you and I could make a stop after the reaping and grab a couple of donuts." I pulled the bills out of my back pocket and handed them to Olivia.

"Donuts! No way!" She grinned, slipping the money into a pocket on her chest. "You're the best brother in the world!"

"Well," I blushed, "You're a little bit dramatic today."

I never thought we'd make it through the Mell, and unfortunately we passed by many more people that were more interested in me than themselves.

Every time they prodded at me with a snide I could feel something within me starting stir. My jaw clenched and my fingers curled up to my palm subconsciously. But I didn't have a fear of exploding—I'd stomached a lot worse.

Olivia, once we reached the square, gravitated to her best friend's family, perched a great distant from the actual reaping. Knowing she was safe, I submerged myself in the crowd, traveling quickly when suddenly someone fell onto my back. I spun around and shoved them off graciously.

I recognized the girl instantly as Darcy Carr. She was a year younger than me, and probably just as much of an outcast. She wasn't ugly; in fact, I might even say she was moderately pretty—with black hair and green eyes. I'd never actually talked with her, which wasn't exactly strange seeing as she was rumored to be a selective mute.

Without a word she slipped away, and the crowd filled in the empty spot she left. I'd reached my fellow fifteens a good five minutes before Mayor Duracell began his speech and I let my mind wander off to math and physics and Darcy Carr.

I'd spent my entire life being teased about a twitching mouth, which had gone as far to give me my name: Rat. Maybe my long hair and chicken legs didn't help my cause, but if people didn't see me talk, they wouldn't see the twitch… maybe little Darcy was much smarter than she let on.

Handel, our district's escort took the microphone and I turned my attention to the stage: "Welcome ladies and gentleman to the 100th annual District 3 reaping! This years Games will certainly prove to be the most exciting we've seen yet! So let's pick a pair of wonderful tributes!"

He approached the large reaping ball, "Ladies first, of course," he grinned. "And this years District 3 female tribute is the beautiful and charming… Darcy Carr!"

The crowd fell silent, without a single cry or gasp. I saw a few of the girls even smiling and I could hardly fathom their cruelty.

But then again, these were the same kids that could make fun of a boy for having a pair of dead parents.

Darcy made her way to the stage amongst the unwavering silence, which seemed oddly fitting, a sort of memorial to her—but of course, I knew that it was really just an ominous quiet that meant she wouldn't be missed by many. There seemed to be some type of struggle in the boys' seventeen section, but I couldn't get a closer look, and it ended relatively quickly.

Handel dropped his hands into the reaping ball again, "And our male tribute is… Rathbone Hurwits!" He called, "Come on up and congratulations to our fantastic tributes!"

The audience turned to face me, but through their silence I could hear the single voice of a crying little girl.

"Oh, 'Liv." I whispered, and made my way to the stage, tears spilling from my eyes. _Good thing I gave her that money for the donuts. _

**I hope this chapter was okay, but I don't think it's that hot. I really would love a betareader, if anyone's up for it just send me a PM! Also, I was thinking about maybe after District 6 I would switch from Reapings to Trainrides? (As in the last six districts would have trainrides instead of reapings and then we'd jump into the other stuff) Just tell me what you think in your review; I'm going to leave it up to you!**


	5. District 4 Reaping

**District 4**

Female: Gwylan Thyme

**Male: Trigeminus Bellarmine**

**(Trigeminus Bellarmine's P.O.V.)**

It was absolutely retarded for them to close down the training center. It may be a holiday or whatever but it's a freaking training center and there are things that need to freaking get done.

Of course I'd been forced to recognize this for the past six years, but for some reason, this building was still the ending-point of my ten-mile run. I did, however, find a little bit of comfort in not having to meet my parents' expectations.

Yesterday was my last day within those four walls.

On to bigger and better things, I guess.

I knew full well that I'd never make it out of all the reapings, especially with my father a victor. I reluctantly chose the rode that led into the victor's village and walked up the steps to my house. When I opened the door, despite the fact it was only six, my parents were up and making breakfast together.

Suddenly there was a funny taste in my mouth and I ducked out of the house before they could notice me. We weren't far from the sea, and I knew my way to the beach fairly well. It was strange to maneuver the path in the daytime, let alone without my sister's hand in mine.

My feet came to a stop; Adair and I would have to say our goodbyes this morning. My throat stung when I acknowledged the fact I would never see her live past the age of five.

_Not that she'd live much longer. _

Stupid pessimistic thoughts that sneak up on me. Adair may have muscular dystrophy, but for all anyone knows she could lead a relatively normal life.

Suddenly, I didn't feel much like going to the beach. But my house wasn't a very ideal place to seek refuge, especially not today. I dropped to the ground and leaned against a boulder.

I'd come to turns with myself volunteering, and the time had finally come. I'd trained long and hard and today was my day… or my father's day. As his only son, and more importantly, his only healthy child, the only thing worse than death to him was my not winning the Hunger Games, and failing to continue his and his father's legacy.

But he and my mother had simply too much faith in me. How did they expect me to form alliances when they've seen the way I interact with others: "You looked good in training yesterday," was about as much as I'd ever said to any of my fellow classmates.

Sure I could run, and maybe throw a few knives, but could that really make me a victor?

_I am the victor. _

All right, let's run with that. 'Cause I mean, I'd really worked my ass off and if there's going to be a single person in that arena that deserves to win—well, than it's fucking me.

I let out an exasperated breath and got to my feet. "That's enough thinking for one morning," I sighed to myself, and shook sand from my shorts.

A chuckle rang from a few feet away and I looked up to see Gwylan Thyme and her fishing posse.

I clenched my jaw, embarrassed to be found talking to myself.

"Hey, Trig." Gwylan grinned at me. "I've never seen you down here so early."

It was a shame, really, that Gwylan was a fisherman's daughter. She could've been pretty if her hair wasn't always tied up in a knot on her head, if her skin weren't stained so brown from the sun, if she wore clothes made for girls, and especially if she didn't always reek of saltwater and fish guts.

"Gwylan," I nodded courteously, before pushing past her and her party.

"Leaving so quickly, Trig?" She questioned, "Gosh, you make me feel like such awful company!" She feigned a deep hurt and threw her hand dramatically over her heart.

"My parents are expecting me," I grumbled. Couldn't the girl see I wasn't interested in talking to her?

"You know, maybe if you counted to ten before leaving, you'd actually meet someone you liked," She said to me in good spirits.

I sputtered for a second, and her friends tried to pull her down the path. "Well, I hope you… catch a lot of fish, or something."

"Thanks," she smiled, pulling at her sun-bleached hair, "I'll give you a holler if we catch that something."

I left before she could say anything else. The sun had stayed in pretty much the same place, and I was shocked to find the time was nearing eight when I arrived back home.

"There you are, baby," My mother cooed. "I thought you weren't ever coming back." She sat patiently, trying to feed my sister who seemed more interested in me. I joined them at the table, as my sister chewed on cut up bacon and scrambled eggs.

My mother jumped up and pounced at the chance to serve me my last meal. Before the games, I mean. The plate crashed in front of me, adorned with blueberry pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausage, and she poured glasses of milk and orange juice, and even my eyes knew I could never stomach all this food.

"Your dad just slipped out, Trig. He said he had a surprise to give you. Are you excited, baby? All your hard work is finally going to mean something!" My mother was a very prominent woman in our district, and a victor for a son was something she wanted just as much as my dad.

"Yes, Ma'am." I mumbled through a full mouth. She smiled at me, starring at me with the same gray eyes that were my own.

"You gonna win," Adair repeated, again and again.

"You better believe, girlie, you're big brother is going to make a name for himself." Mom ran a hand through Adair's mocha curls.

Suddenly there was a loud noise as the door burst open, practically falling off its hinges. My Dad flew in, one hand clamped tightly around a small velvet box, his other hand holding a camera.

"Smile, everybody, come on, one last picture before my boy is famous." Mom laughed whole-heartedly in response and Adair shouted cheese. Satisfied, my father fell into the seat next to me.

"I've got something for you, Trig." My father handed me the box. "My father wore this in his games, and I wore it in mine. Think of it as a good luck charm, not that you really need it."

I opened the box gently, and found a ring within its black velvety depths. I pulled it out and studied it briefly: it was rather large, and consisted of a blood-red garnet incased by gold. It rested heavy in my hands and I thought about how many people had been slaughtered while my father and grandfather wore this ring.

I smiled at my dad and slipped it on to my pointer finger. My mom smirked at me, "You can train the boy for years but he'll still be just as unconventional."

Dad rustled my sandy hair, and snapped another candid. "Go get dressed, if we leave in ten we'll be fashionably late." He shot a teasing glance at my mother and she threw her hands up:

"That's all I ask for." I left the kitchen table and went to my room. I'd already had my clothes picked out and approved by both my parents and I slipped them on.

I squatted so that all six feet and five inches of me could fit into the mirror on my wall. I flattened my hair, and straightened my tie.

_We would stroll in nonchalantly, just as the girl tribute took the stage, I wouldn't bother making my way to the eighteens and as Freesia, our escort, reached her skinny blue arm into the giant reaping ball I would call out, "I volunteer!" before she could even read the name on the paper. _

"Are you ready, Trig?" Dad shouted up the stairs, and I found them waiting for me by the door.

"Yes, sir." I grinned at him, and I, by some good grace of god, felt like I was.

But things didn't go exactly as I planned when we strolled in nonchalantly and the girl tribute took the stage. It was none other than Gwylan, with her golden hair and tanned skin and sea green eyes and her fishy smell, all dressed up in a little peach number.

And Freesia's hands were already digging around in the reaping ball. My dad elbowed me as she pulled out a slip of paper, and my voice faltered—no, I will not allow myself to be a disappointment.

"I volunteer!" I shouted, probably louder than necessary, but I'm sure it just came off as eagerness. I joined Gwylan on the stage, and took her hand—which wasn't covered in fish slime, as I'd imagined—and braced myself for my success in the Hunger Games while my father cheered.

**AHH GUYS, I'm so sorry. I was trying to do every other day but last night was just a disaster. Hopefully I'll have the next up tomorrow so we can get back on track, but I do have a big English essay! **** PLEASE leave a review! I'm not going to post until I get 5, so maybe that will encourage you! **

**B**


	6. District 5 Reaping

**District 5**

Female: Winter Kitico

**Male: Ibis Keefe**

**(Ibis Keefe's P.O.V.)**

"I told you to hand it over, crybaby." Holden Jacobs ordered, shoving a small ten-year-old against the brick wall outside the school.

"It's my brother's, please leave me alone." The kid sniffled, his hand wrapped tightly around a silver pin of a stallion. "Please."

But the apathetic Holden just laughed at the kid, bringing his hand back to give the whiny boy a good punch.

"What do you think you're doing?" The fat, taller boy jumped at the sound of my voice, dropping his hands to his sides and backing away from Jay and the wall.

I approached him, and he stuttered: "I don't know."

"You don't know? Well, do you want to know what I know?" I questioned; he nodded exuberantly—little kids were just too easy to intimidate.

"I know that you should get the hell out of here." I had barely finished my sentence and the kid was already long gone; I turned to Jay, who was wiping his eyes of tears. "You okay, Jason?"

"I'm fine, Ibis." He scrambled over to my side, straightening out his jacket. "He was tryin' to take your pin, but I wouldn't let him." He placed it in my hand and I dropped it in my pocket.

"Thanks," I gave Jay a reassuring smile, but on the inside I was _so_ tired of having to protect him. The kid was practically a bully magnet. I had started picking him up from school just so he wouldn't get beat up; and sure enough about once a week there was another kid wanting to mess with him.

"You're going to have to come back to work with me, Yan and I got a double shift." I stated, as a group of giggling town girls strutted by. They batted their eyelashes at me, but I turned back to Jay.

"The stables are that way," Jay said, pointing with his index finger in the opposite direction and furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

I brought my finger to my lips and shushed him, giving him a gentle shove down a quiet road.

"We're going to the market. Yan heard that Johan just got in a purebred gelling and he's willing to trade it cheap."

"But I thought that all the livestock were sold at the Justice Building…" Jay said in a voice too loud for my liking.

"You have got to learn to keep your volume down, Jay." I frowned. "This is my job, okay, I know what I'm doing."

"I didn't mean that you-" Jay started.

"And you better keep your mouth shut while we're there. We don't need to get mixed up in any trouble."

"Okay," Jay almost whispered. I looked at his little pink face and his skinny little body drowning in my old t-shirt.

_God._

I stopped, and turned to face him. "Look, Jay, you know I don't mean it when I—I'm not really mad—I'm sorry, it's just been a rough couple of weeks."

Jay starred up at me with big confused eyes.

"Let's make a deal, Jay, if I get this gelling for a good price, you and me, we're gonna get you anything you'd like with the leftovers, okay?"

He gave me a crooked grin, "Okay."

"Thanks for this," I let my glass bang against Zan's as we downed the burning scotch. It wasn't much, but it sure did wonders to fill an empty stomach.

"Not a problem, Ibis." He laughed, leaning back on to the ground behind him. "Think of it as a celebratory drink, a cheers to the end of another year at the hands of the Capitol. Let us just make it through another two years."

"Amen," I chuckled. If there were anyone to be praying to, you think he'd stop 23 innocent kids from being killed annually. Or maybe he wouldn't let a whiny string bean like Jay get wailed on.

But on the other hand, he'd managed to keep the two of us from dying, and he'd gotten me this job on the farm—what with good bosses hard to find around here, I guess I'm pretty lucky.

Who was I kidding? There wasn't anything up there. Just a bunch of flaming gas balls and floating rocks.

"You know that girl—the blonde one that talks to animals or whatever that weird crap is that she says." Zan questioned, staring up at the gray sky.

"Winter Kitico?" I scoffed, "That girl is damn weird."

"And damn hot, if you ask me." Zan grinned, sitting up to inspect the fields quickly, and to pour himself another shot.

I sat up next to me, pulling from the ground a large clump of glass. I threw it in the direction of the grazing sheep and watched them scatter and baa as the dirt dusted their matted coats.

"I mean, she's only fifteen, but she's got definite potential, if she'd just keep her mouth shout." Zan continued, tossing back another glass.

I grabbed the bottle from his sloppy hands and tossed it to my side. "Shut up, Zan, that's no way to talk about a girl."

Zan shook his head, "Oh Ib, what a man. What a handsome, romantic man you've grown up to be."

"Shut up," I punched his shoulder and tore another handful of grass from the earth quite angrily.

Zan stumbled to his feet and dived towards the quarter-filled bottle. He finished it off, and lay silent again. I felt the first of a few raindrops on the tip of my nose and tanned arms, and Zan rolled his head to face me.

"What?" I groaned, wishing he could just leave me alone for a few minutes; that's what herding was about: a little time to yourself.

"I'm going to get her. Just wait and see," He smiled, his words already beginning to slur. "She's damn freaking beautiful."

"I hear she's a good herder, works at the Thomson's fields. She was Jay's mentor last year, he said she was real sweet."

"Sounds like you're the one trying to get with her." Zan laughed, a booming sound that he only found funnier.

"Believe me man, you can have that, I'm not interested." _I just hate to hear you talk about someone like that, she had a brother named Jay too—course he wasn't nearly as wimpy. _"Believe me man, that's the last thing I'd touch. Girl sure is weird."

Zan and I went back and forth like this until the sky grew dark and boss came out to say after we brought in the sheep we could hit the road early. It was a holiday tomorrow, after all.

The sheep were dry in their barn when I slapped Zan on the back, and the rain pelted the ground like bullets. "Good luck tomorrow, I'll meet you in the seventeen's."

Zan made off into the rain, giggling like toddler. "Ha, I hope you get reaped," He joked, and I couldn't help but smile as I made my way the other direction. The house was all lit-up by the time I got there, and Jay waited for me by the front window.

"Ibis!" He squealed, and charged the door as I tried to hastily slip in.

"Out of my way, Jay," I said, giving him a gentle shove and locking the door behind me.

"I thought the rain might'd stopped you." He frowned, pulling me towards his room. "It was getting late, and our house is so far away. Dad gave us a ring, he's held up at work, but he said he'd be here in the morning to make us a breakfast."

"Okay."

Jay looked up at me, and I knew he wanted me to say something more, to tell him I felt the same way about Dad never being here.

But, all I knew how to say was, "I'll see you in the morning, kid. Don't forget you can sleep in."

I shut his door behind me and listened to him squirm as he found the switch to his nightlight.

My bed looked welcoming and all I could think about was sleeping through the reaping. I was drenched to the bone, but after changing and shaking out my hair sleep came easily enough.

And so did morning time. It crept up on me so fast I'd barely blinked by the time Jay was pouncing on me.

"DAD'S HOME, HE MADE US OMELETS! With goat cheese and fresh eggs, come on, Ibis!"

The boy sure could eat, but for some reason it all went to his oversized ears. "Comin'," I moaned, and buried my face in my pillow. When did this become so exceptionally comfortable?

"No you're not," Jay sang, ripping the blanket off of me and running out of my room.

I followed him, rubbing my eyes. "You're going to have to eat and run, Ibis." My father smiled at me while he beat some eggs. "Jay and I will meet you down there as soon as we can, I just want to make sure everything's going fine at work."

"It's your day off," I muttered, and he handed me an omelet squished between two pieces of soggy toast. It didn't really matter to me that he wasn't scared or shaking. He had other things on his mind beside the possibility of losing his son, I'm sure. More important things.

I disappeared out the door and began the trek to the square where the Reaping was held. 100 years of the Hunger Games. 2323 children murdered on live television, their bodies betraying them for an entire nation to see and judge.

It made me freaking sick.

On my left some horny boy had pinned a much smaller girl to a tree. Poor thing, she didn't stand a chance.

I ducked past them and continued on my way. "Ibis!" Zan's familiar voice called me and I spun on the heel of my boot.

He stood behind me, looking quite disheveled, with his arm tangled around the blonde's waist. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her skirt hiked up higher than I'm sure where it was intended to fall.

Zan sure did make quick work.

"Ibis, this is Winter Kitico." Zan smirked at me.

"We've met," she peeped, jumping forward. Zan went with her and we finished the walk to the square together.

Winter left us to go stand with the other girls of her age, and even though we were early, it didn't seem like the Reaping took much time to start.

Our mayor hadn't yet finished the Treaty of Treason when our escort came bouncing in to center stage. Her smile was about as fake as it got. Because really, who wanted to be the escort for District 5?

"Ladies first!" She called, and Mayor Starks limped to the other side of the stage, not even bothering to finish. We'd all heard it a hundred times.

Well, I mean, you know what I'm getting at.

"Winter Kitico!" She shouted, and suddenly the crowd was parting to allow her passage to the stage.

"Huh. I guess that's a shame," Zan whispered next to me. _He guesses. _

"And now, for the gentleman… please, put your hands together for Ibis Keefe!"

I looked at Zan. Ibis Keefe was me. I was Ibis Keefe. I was Ibis Keefe and Ibis Keefe was a tribute in the 100th Hunger Games.

_Shit. _

**Sorry for the mild language, if anyone's offended by it, I'll take it out of the story, just let me know. Unfortunately there were not five reviews! So… I'm not posting until this chapter gets 5 reviews! It's only because I know you can do it. I also still need a BETA so if you're interested, let me know!**

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	7. District 6 Reaping

**District 6**

**Female: Sarabella (Sabby) Bennett**

Male: Lionel Carter

**(Sarabella "Sabby" Bennett's P.O.V)**

"Damn it!" I cried, bringing my thumb to my mouth. Throwing down the needle on the table, I was so tired of sewing. With my free hand I began to fold the patterned fabric in a lopsided, sloppy manner.

"Look's like someone's having a little early evening fun," a voice said from behind me. I spun to find the speaker, my thumb still in my mouth. "I thought you quit sucking your thumb," Lionel teased from his perch outside my window.

Rolling my eyes, I helped him climb in. He always smelt like oil, and I loved when his greasy hands mingled his scent with mine. "You're not at work," I observed, turning my back on him and re-folding the half-made garment.

"I left a little early," I knew he was grinning behind me, "Told Eric I had to pay a surprise visit to the birthday girl."

Eric was Lionel's supervisor at the refinery, and a peacekeeper. Instead of being sent from the Capitol, however, he was born and raised in our own District 6, and because of this he was fairly lenient. But it was still surprising that he'd let Lionel leave work four hours early.

"And he let you leave?" I raised my eyebrows. Lionel responded by forcing me back against the wall, his golden locks tickling the sides of my face. We may have been best friends for years, but that didn't mean I hadn't noticed when he became the hottest guy in the _entire_ district.

"Don't worry your pretty little mind about that."

"Oh leave me alone, Rawr." I shoved him off of me, just after watching him cringe at the cutesy nickname.

"I don't even know why I bothered coming to see you." Lionel grabbed me by the waist, pulling me out my back door.

"It's because I'm so damn loveable, you just can't get me off your mind." I teased, pulling his dirty hand up to my shoulder and tossing him a wink.

"Of course, now I remember." We were quiet for a minute, and I wondered when our friendship had turned so strange. We'd always had that easy type of relationship; Lionel had been my best friend since our first day of school—not five minutes after we'd met and he'd been put into timeout, I organized the prison break.

Obviously, we'd faced mocking—I think every boy-girl friendship did, but for the past year it seemed like we were enabling the suspicions.

Not that I had feelings for him, that's not what I'm trying to say at all.

I'm just saying it seemed as if he liked holding my hand, or when I cried on his shoulder, or when I sat with him on the coach, or when we went on walks through the district, or when I'd give him a hug goodbye.

And I don't really mind it when we start to fall asleep and his hand gets tangled in my hair.

"Watcha thinking about?" He asked, but I turned away from his blue eyes. I'd just realized we'd been walking down the familiar path to the pond where we had spent most of our afternoons before Lionel started to work.

"Come on, Sabs, say something. I can't stand this quiet."

"Well, what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything," He waited impatiently for a brief moment, "Tell me how it feels to be sixteen."

"It feels… it feels like I still have an eternity of this left. Of taking care of my father and brothers, of selling people poorly made clothes and mending what mothers can't."

"So pretty terrible, eh?" Lionel chuckled, "It felt pretty much the same to me, of course, I still had something to be happy about."

"What?" I rolled my eyes, "Casey Cooper, Alana Whitman? All those other girls that are always following you around, 'Oh please Lionel Carter, won't you use me for three days, then break my heart and leave me to spew wistful half-assed insults whenever you pass me in the streets!'"

He laughed, a happy sound that almost brought a smile to my lips.

"Oh, _absolutely._ Come on, Sabs, I'm being serious here, we're having a heart to heart."

"Is that what this is? Well then," I stopped him, stepping in front of him and bringing my chest to meet his. I wrapped my hands tight around his back.

"Heart to heart," He quipped, "_very_ clever."

He pushed me away.

"It was you," he continued. "You always make my day better. I mean, not everyone is lucky enough to see a nearly grown woman sucking her thumb."

"You are a lucky, lucky boy."

The pond was suddenly before us, and I rushed away from Lionel and to the edge. I kicked off my sandals and took a step into the cool water. "Come on, Rawr."

He stormed into the pool, sending water crashing up my legs and sprinkling my skirt.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, kicking my feet in his direction. He gasped and I smirked in response, shrugging innocently as he narrowed his eyes at me. "Sorry, I didn't mean it—I tripped!"

He grabbed me under my knees, and carried me to where the water came up to his hips.

"No, please, Lionel! It's my birthday! Don't, please!" I clung onto his shirt, and he pouted at me.

"If that's what you really want," He sighed, and turned around.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cheered and he took a step toward the beach—but suddenly he'd spun on his heel and I was pushed out of his hands and completely submerged.

My feet found the ground and I pushed myself out of the green water, wiping my hair from my face and sputtering at him angrily.

I don't think Lionel had ever found anything funnier than an angry, wet me. Stomping, I pushed my way towards him, "You think this is funny?"

Lionel nodded, too hysterical to find words. Placing my hands on his chest, I forced him backwards onto the sandy shore. I stared at him, but his whole body continued to shake with laughter.

I shook my head in confusion; I could see why he'd laugh initially, but seriously Lionel?

"What's so funny?" I asked, and he dropped down to the ground.

"You…" He trailed off into chuckles. "Look at yourself."

My eyes dropped to my soaked white shirt and purple skirt. The material clung to my body and had become completely transparent, I giggled at myself, "Very mature, Lion."

He grasped my wrist and pulled me down beside him. "I have something for you."

I smiled at him and he reached into one of his drenched pockets, "Here." He stated, pushing a small bag into my right palm. He turned from me uncomfortably and I stared at his back a moment before pulling something from the depths of the pouch.

I untangled the gold chain and stared curiously the pendant of a flower. "This is beautiful." And so girly; I almost laughed as I imagined Lionel picking it out. "Thank you so much." It was too much. _Too _much for a sixteen-year-old boy, especially in District 6.

"I thought it'd be nice for you to have something metal other than a bunch of needles." But still, he refused to face me. It was like suddenly there was something between us we just wouldn't recognize.

I grabbed his face, pulling it to face mine. "Thank you." The words were a whisper on my lips. "Will you have dinner with us? Please?"

"Sure," He grinned, and then everything was easy. He fastened the chain around my neck. We walked back to my house and he told me about his day in the refinery and the pranks my brothers had been up to. I told him about the struggles of being a poor excuse of a tailor, and he cradled my maimed fingers in his.

When we got back home it was still light and we'd only been gone for two hours. I showed him how to set the table and he watched me as I tried to make a dinner for six with two loafs of bread, some cheese and whatever was left of this month's tesserae.

We sang loud songs he'd learnt at the refinery from an old man named Arthur who'd learnt them from his father, who'd first heard them sung by his uncle. Old American Music, Lionel said, and we both pretended we knew what that was.

"I smell something delicious, what'd our girl cook up on this fine day?" My Dad questioned, strutting into the room with my brothers; they were all stained oil-black.

"Oh yes, it's definitely a gourmet dish." Lionel joked.

"You're here?" Seth, my youngest brother at age eighteen, questioned suspiciously. He'd become increasingly cold towards my friend in the past few months.

"Yea, I figured my aunt would be glad to see one less mouth to feed."

We sat down to dinner and my Dad made a toast to sixteen great years and only two more scary ones left.

I'm not sure how accurate that was, I feel like life can only get more frightening.

I don't think I've ever touched so many people at once. They were sweating and panting, and so was I, and we were all one collective mass.

The girls on either side of me might as well have been strangers, and I felt no comfort here, in my red dress and ribbons.

I tried to look over the crowd of sixteen-year-old girls, but my eyes kept returning to the stage where Mayor Cadiz recited the Treaty of Treason.

Everything was suddenly so close, and even though I stood in an overpopulated District, in a sea of girls that had taken out more tesserae than I, I was starting to shake and I was scared.

Our escort, Warlin, took to the stage, pretending to be a charming and handsome man, pretending that we were excited to see him again, excited for today. I heard some boys begin to boo as he tried to speak, so he settled on the clichéd "Ladies first!"

His hand dropped into the Reaping Ball and so did my heart. My blood was pounding in my ears so loud that I barely heard when he called my name: "Sarabella Bennett."

The stage was in front of me, and my shoes were climbing the stairs. Seth and Solomon and Sanderson and Stephen and Daddy were shouting something awful from where they watched. But everything else was quiet.

Warlin once again reached into the Reaping Ball and called out his second Tribute, probably hoping that they at least _looked_ like they might stand a chance. And my family was suddenly quiet.

"Taylor Curtling," Warlin announced, and Taylor began his trek towards us like a brave man. It appeared as if Warlin had gotten the strong tribute he'd wanted—

"I volunteer!" Said his voice.

_No._

"No." I said out loud. "No you don't."

And then Lionel Carter was on stage beside me.

**REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS PLEAAASEE. I may or may not do Train Rides next chapter, it depends what mood I'm in. I liked this chapter, I thought it was fun. I REALLY NEED A BETA. PLEAAAASEEE it's killing me to edit this! **

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	8. District 7 Train Ride

**District 7**

Female: Victoria Boettcher

**Male: Shock Coolidge**

**(Shock Coolidge's P.O.V)**

It was absolutely ridiculous that the poor thing had been reaped. I mean, what did the Capitol think when District 7 had reaped the weakest and strongest of the game's competitors?

There is not a possibility that a single person in that arena will come close to even touching me. I'm practically invincible. Especially if all the other tributes are as meek and sickly as my district partner.

I waited in the room where I was supposed to say my goodbyes, but I was alone. After what seemed like ages, but was truly only ten minutes, a man dressed in a white peacekeeper's uniform peeked in through the door. "Don't you have any visitors, boy?"

"No, sir," I responded quickly and he stared at me for a second.

"Good. Then let's get you to the train." I practically jumped from my seat and used all of my self-restraint to not sprint past him to where I knew the tribute's car awaited us. He pushed me in front of him, pushing me forward with the butt of his gun.

You think they'd treat their own celebrities with a little more kindness. But I guess it was inevitable—a peacekeeper was just an upset, little man who wanted power. After they saw me kill 23 kids they'd learn to treat me with respect.

The girl was already sitting at a table by the time I walked in. I guess she hadn't had any visitors either. The girl—I hadn't meant to forget her name so quickly—was sitting up straight, but barely looked like she was four and a half feet tall. She had stringy, flat blond hair and dull unfocused hazel eyes. She was wearing a baggy blue dress and even though I made my entrance quite the show, she refused to look at me.

Lara, our escort, bounced in just as I took my seat beside the thirteen-year-old.

"You guys sure are fast!" Lara smiled, before suddenly shouting: "EXCUSE ME, I've been sitting for practically a minute and I see no food!"

Bipolar bitch?

Suddenly our car flooded with men and women that were unmistakably similar. One of the girls, who couldn't be but a year or two older than me, poured me a tall glass of some type of fizzing blue drink:

"Thanks," I whispered, winking an eye at her. Damn, I'm so hot. I'm practically turning myself on.

But for some reason, her face became twisted and she looked offended—it was then that I noticed it, her clipped off tongue.

Well, she'd be no good for kissing anyway.

I wasn't that disappointed when she exited the car, leaving a few others to switch our plates whenever one became empty.

I hadn't ever seen this much food—this much delicious food, of course with the exception of some of the Capitol shows they play every now and then on television; like the banquet dinner in our district after Jana Levin won the 99th Hunger Games.

Speaking of Jana, where was that girl? I thought she was our mentor.

"Those are your personal avox, Victoria," Lara pointed to the people in the corner as if they were too stupid to understand us. "And Shock, I'm not quite sure where yours are, probably making your bed. If you two ever need anything, ask them."

Cool. Not only did I have servants, but I also found out the girl's name. Then again, maybe it would've been easier to kill her if she were nameless—however, she hadn't had any visitors, so she probably won't even be missed. Lara tried to engage Victoria in talk but she responded with head nodding and shaking. Whatever that was supposed to mean. After broths and creamy soups and filet drenched in sauce and creamy vegetables and sweet hams and chocolate treats and pastries and every other food under the sun, I felt as if I was ready to maybe spend a long night in a comfortable bed.

Of course, stupid Jana had to ruin it for me by making her first appearance of the day. Girls were always doing that.

"Hey," I grinned, as she fell in to the empty chair beside me.

She studied me for a minute. "You're hot, hopefully that'll work out for us. Look, I'm going to make this brief: Lara has a copy of the Reapings and you can watch them, but this is what you're going to need to know: our careers this year are pretty freaking strong. We've got a guy named Trig-a-something, and his Dad was a victor, not to mention he's like crazy huge. District 3 seemed well, uh… it seems pretty much like District 3 always does, I just don't know where they get that many weirdos. So then there's District 5, and I suggest you watch out for the male tribute, the girl seems more like she was bred to be a trophy wife, but you never know. Then there's District 6, and it looks like there's some kind of romance going on there between the tributes so they probably won't be hard to intimidate… or kill. I know you guys probably don't want to hear that word but it's about time you came to terms with what's going down. Alright?"

When Jana finally closed her mouth, it took all my energy not to make some snide comment and leave—because let's face it, when I'm in the arena she's the one that'll be running everything.

Not to mention I really wasn't in the mood to watch all the other reapings. "Sounds good to me," I stretched, kicking my feet up onto the table. Lara shot me an unpleasant look, but Jana looked satisfied.

Victoria stood up abruptly, "Bed." She whispered.

"Of course, I'll show you the way, you both better rest up; we've got a long day of primping tomorrow!" Lara cheered, leading Victoria off in some other direction.

"I guess we better get ourselves to bed, Lara knows best." Jana sighed. There seemed to be some type of bite in her voice when she said the Lara's name. It was pretty hot.

"I thought they'd never leave us alone," I smirked, turning my chair to face hers. I know I hadn't planned this, but come _on_! She was freaking Jana Levin.

She stared at me perplexed. "Are you coming on to your mentor?"

"I could do that," I bantered, leaning over the arm of her chair until our faces were seconds from each other.

"I don't think you should," She whispered, her breath hot on my lips. "You stuff your face and then think you can get some. The Hunger Games isn't a vacation, Coolidge."

"You're right, with you here it's more like heaven." _Damn. I am the man. _

"You're little boy tricks aren't going to work on me." Jana protested.

"Really?" I laughed; closing the distance between us and meeting her lips in the wonderful way lips meet for the first time.

There was nothing better than kissing a girl, all soft and pink and sweet.

It was a few minutes before she pulled away, flustered and out of breath. Yes, I _am_ that good.

"Oh." She whispered, and I felt years her senior despite the fact she was twelve months older than me. I settled back in my chair, and took a long sip of water.

She peered at me with her big blue eyes and I flashed her a grin. I wonder how many guys could say they'd made Jana Levin, Hunger Games Victor, look all messy-haired and swollen-lipped…

"Night, Jana." I said quickly, jumping to my feet and exiting the car the direction Lara and Victoria had half an hour before.

She may have tried to say something, but I had to keep my element of mystery. I had to keep _her_ wanting _me_. I had to be the guy she dreamt about tonight. And I damn would be; that was some Grade-A shit if you ask me.

It didn't really matter where my room was. I'd find it eventually.

**HEY LOVES. So, I'm getting kind of bored, are you? I just feel like we're taking to long to get to this meat. SO my plan is. No more reapings, no more train rides (unless I am overcome with the urge). The remaining districts may have prep. Chapters, or arrival chapters, or chariot chapters, or even training chapters. Every character will have an interview, and there will probably be four tributes per chapter. Tell me if this sounds like a plan. If you're seriously opposed, just let me know. Also… BETA? PLEASSSE? And review!**


	9. District 8 Reaping

**District 8**

Female: Meriem DiLaurentis

**Male: Ribbon Muse**

**(Ribbon Muse's P.O.V.)**

The familiar click of her sandals climbed the steps outside my front door. I imagined Zare, her hair combed into a bun as it always was, just waiting for me to muss it. She'd be wearing that tired red coat, as she always did, and when I opened the door she'd comment on how it was constantly chilly in District 8.

I'd help her out of her jacket, and toss it down on the coach and she'd be wearing some slinky pink dress that would make me stutter until she turned red with embarrassment.

I'd help her outside to where I'd set up a picnic and we would talk and talk until it was tomorrow, and my parents would come home just after she put my ring on her finger.

Sure, I may have already had this ring for two weeks, but tonight… tonight was the perfect opportunity. Tonight, Zare Carde would finally be mine forever.

I checked my pants pocket once again for the case I knew was there and I opened the door.

"It took you long enough," Meriem DiLaurentis barged past me. She turned the corner straight into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of bread off the counter.

Her best friend, Jezebel, peered at me from the doorstep. The wind blew into the house, "Come on in, but just for a second."

"Thanks," She grinned at me.

"Look Meriem, as much fun as I'm sure this will be, I've got very important plans tonight and I don't really have the time," I called, before Meriem reentered the room and pulled off her hat.

"You're the one that invited us in."

"I did not," Meriem met me, glare for glare.

"Look, we'll be out of your and Zare's hair in a couple of minutes, and it's not like she's ever on time anyway." She paused, finishing off the slice of bread. Meriem had brown hair, hazel eyes and array of scars. She was absolutely fearless, strong-willed and damn adamant; I had no chance of getting her to leave before she was ready.

I leaned against the couch. Alright, she can win this time, _this _time.

"I've got some bad news, Ribbon. You see there was a little problem with that uh… wool I got you. I mean… it's really no problem it's just… well, it's not from District 5 like I thought. Turns out to be from this private weaver out in District 4, so I can't really guarantee you the quality and authenticity of that particular… purchase."

Meriem and Jezebel had been illegally trading cloth with my parents for clothing discounts at their store for years. The two girls were from the apartment complex in the middle of our District, and neither of their families had much money.

"Is that it?" I questioned. Meriem nodded, seemingly surprised that I absolutely did not care. "Well then you two wouldn't mind getting out of my house, would ya?"

"No, I guess not." Meriem wrinkled her nose and she and Jezebel were about to disappear through my door when she turned back to me, "Good luck tomorrow, I really hope you and Zare don't get reaped."

"Thanks," I gave her a half-smile, "Same to you guys."

Jezebel smiled at me in response and they headed out into the wind.

I salvaged the bread Meriem had left and finished setting up out back when I realized how cold it had suddenly come.

Clumsily, I struggled to transfer the picnic into my bedroom, even going so far to drape the tablecloth over my bed. I even lit some candles, now that I had the opportunity. It was cozy-like, so maybe the weather had worked out just fine.

Suddenly there was a knock and I was already opening the door. She entered, her blond hair shimmering under the incandescent streetlights. My heart skipped a beat, as it always did, and I helped her out of her coat.

"Evening, Zare," I breathed on her cheek.

"It's so cold in this stupid District. If only we lived in District 4. Could you imagine how beautiful it most be there?" Oh, my perfectly predictable Zare. She looked at me with something devious twinkling in her baby blues, "So, your parents aren't home, huh?"

I chuckled, "No ma'am, just you and me and another tragically romantic night."

She melted against my body and I led her into my room. She flipped around to face me, "Oh, Ribbon, you are the _most_ wonderful boyfriend in the entire nation of Panem."

She separated from me and planted herself in the middle of our feast.

"I've never been so hungry in my life, and you plan this so unexpectedly. It's just exactly what I wanted."

"Anything for you, babe," She giggled and I grinned. As she fixed her hair I stole a kiss. She was as easygoing as always while I was shaking on the inside.

Her ring practically burned a hole through my upper thigh.

I felt like _such _a girl. What happened to the man that had bought this ring and had been ready to get married?

Zare was it. She was the one, and I had no reason to be hesitating.

_Damn it. Dude, this girl is fucking into you, stop being such a pansy._

"I should maybe get going. My parents are expecting me back by ten, and it's already eleven," she whispered through swollen lips.

"Don't," I ordered kindly, placing a hand on her thigh.

"Please," Zare whispered, kissing me gently, "don't ask me or I won't be able to leave."

She escaped before my hand could pull the ring out of my pocket.

I'd betrayed myself again.

"Did she say yes?" Meriem wondered aloud, practically colliding with me on my way to the town square.

"Did who say yes?" I turned on her, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the ring you bought from Jemax. Oh, don't look at me like that! We both know that I know everything that goes down in 8."

I gaped at her, "How could you possibly know that?"

She frowned at me, "So you didn't ask her… wimp."

"Oh, I don't need to hear this from you," I scoffed, separating myself from her by the crowd. The crowd at District 8 was unlike most of the others. We were a highly populated District, but no one was really poor. We were just a single mass of people of the same social standing.

It was painful for me to think of Zare, standing a hundred and fifty feet away from me. I just wanted to be able to hold her hand; I know she'd be shaking. She was always so sensitive to the cold, not to mention she had terrible anxiety

Fortunately, I reminded myself that for every one boy in our District there were about two or three girls, Zare was much safer than any of us boys. But still, the chances of anyone I know getting reaped is so incredibly small.

But in a few seconds, Meriem had mounted the stage, and I felt something cold at the back of my throat.

_It's not Zare, and Meriem can take care of herself. She can win these damned Games._ I reminded myself, trying to smile as the unlucky boy was called:

"Ribbon Muse." Fillis called, and I looked up at her confused.

_Excuse me? I don't think that you're reading that right._

But she was, surprisingly, and as I hesitated a peacekeeper shoved me forward.

"No, please, someone take his spot!" Zare cried from where she was stuck in an unyielding mass. "Please, Ribbon, don't leave me!"

_Don't worry, Zare, I'll come back to you. __Even if it means killing Meriem._

**Sorry for such the long wait, I have finals and I've been terribly busy! Unfortunately, though finals end next Thursday I'm leaving for two months, I will try to update as often as I can! I can't wait to get into the games. Also, please check out the Summer Fanfiction Awards Forum and submit your favorite authors! PLEASE leave a review, the more reviews I get the faster I'll write. I'm looking for at least five! (AND HAPPY SUMMER TIME)**

**B**


	10. Important and District 9

Here are some announcements:

I am so very excited for the Games to start but I do have finals, and I really should get on that

I participate in a rather clichéd world and if I told you guys about this hobby you might laugh/think of me differently; so just know it takes up a lot of my time

I hope to keep going strong, especially now that I have A WONDERFUL BETA-READER NAMED KID ON FANFICTION. They're the best.

Unfortunately, I was reported, this morning I woke up to the lovely email that I had a review, when I read it, it said:

Story: The 100th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter: 1. Submission Form

From: Cezariaz ( .net/u/2295132/ )

Reply URL: .net/review_?reviewid=105601505

This is against the ToS. Reported.

Have a nice day~!

-Cez

Do not reply to this email. If the review is signed, use reply link provided

above.

So, I'm not quite sure what'll happen, but I'll try to keep in touch, I'd recommend author-alerting me if I decide to transfer to another story. Thanks for reading this, and I hope everything turns out just fine! Please review with your thoughts/opinions. I will replace this chapter with District 9.

Oh, and here's a little bit of the story so I don't get reported again:

I could feel the cool hands pulling me from the cove I'd found refuge in. I kicked my legs, scrambling into the small crawlspace. But the arms were stronger than I was and they gave another tug. I tried to grab onto the walls of the cave; I couldn't go back into that open arena.

I had to stay right here.

"Mayrose," A voice complained, and I felt my heart dropped as I realized the arms had a voice. As I realized they were pulling me to my death. "Come on, we have to get ready."

_Ready? Ready for what?_

In a last attempt to keep my life I threw my arms over my head and grasped onto the… headboard? _What kind of cave had a headboard?_


	11. District 9 Primping

**District 9**

**Female: ****Mayrose Lockhart**

Male: Gregory Appleman

**(Mayrose Lockhart's P.O.V)**

I could feel the cool hands pulling me from the cove I'd found refuge in. I kicked my legs, scrambling into the small crawlspace. But the arms were stronger than I was and they gave another tug. I tried to grab onto the walls of the cave; I couldn't go back into that open arena.

I had to stay right here.

"Mayrose," A voice complained, and I felt my heart dropped as I realized the arms had a voice. As I realized they were pulling me to my death. "Come on, we have to get ready."

_Ready? Ready for what?_

In a last attempt to keep my life I threw my arms over my head and grasped onto the… headboard? _What kind of cave had a headboard?_

Fuck me for being the stupidest person on the earth. "Sorry Greg, I guess my survival instincts have already kicked in… heh." I laughed nervously. I jumped from my bed, pulling my auburn hair into a ponytail. I strolled into the bathroom as Gregory waited outside, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

I changed into jeans and a t-shirt before reappearing: "So breakfast?"

"Probably, all Nivan can say to me is: 'You! Scrawny boy! You get over here and eat. You just keep on eating 'till you puke.'" I rolled my eyes as Greg emulated our mentor.

"Charming," I sighed, and we left in silence. I couldn't help but remember my dream—it had felt so real, I was really cold, and it _was_ really damp. And all around me had really smelt like dirt.

"Just so you know, when I said we had to get ready, I didn't mean for breakfast." I quirked my eyebrow at Greg, silently asking him what the hell he was talking about. "We've got that stupid chariot ride tonight, you know. So they've got to get us shaved and made up so we can sport those latest and greatest Capitol fashions."

"Huh. Maybe they'll dress us in loincloths and war paint. I mean, that's what I wear when I hunt."

"Really, see I normally wear a camouflage scarf and skin-tight leather pants. But you know me, all uh… nonconformist and such."

"That comment was barely coherent," I laughed, as we finally reached the dining hall.

"There you areeeeeee!" Nivan boomed, sprinting towards us, his giant arms waving in the air. "One day very soon, you'll regret it if you don't listen to me."

"Yes, sir," Greg grinned, diving for a seat at the table. He hardly had the time to scarf done a couple of what the Capitol called pancakes, before Nivan pulled him from his chair.

"Not so fast, you two can't go wasting anytime today, we've got to get ready for the rides tonight. If you two put on a good show… well, you'll be halfway to getting some sponsors. Now you listen to what they stylists say—and if you don't, you'll have to answer to me! Now…" He shot us an intimidating glare and I couldn't help but think about the many lives that had been lost because of him. "Good day."

He disappeared through the door; Pollie, our escort, was nowhere to be found, so we sat down and continued eating until someone else came to order us about.

"But-but-but Nivan!" I whined to Greg, "I'm just so lazy, all I want to do is—"

"I said 'Good day!'" Greg yelled at me, and we both exploded into laughter. I hadn't managed to collect myself by the time the strangers entered the room and pulled us out separate ways.

The rest of the day consisted of a good deal of poking and slathering and unnecessary nudity and scrutiny and waxing and brushing and pulling and even a little crying. The team of three had finally left me alone long enough to take a good breath when a woman practically danced her way up to the chair in which I'd collapsed.

"Hello, Mayrose," She sang, completely unshaken by my lack of clothing. "My name is Layla, and I am your stylist."

"Hi," I mumbled, pulling my sore, raw body as far away from her as possible.

"Oh don't worry, honey, most of the painful stuff is over. But you know what they say about beauty and pain!" She shouted, spinning away to a table and back to me.

I really didn't know what _they_ said, and I really didn't know who _they_ were. But Layla didn't seem to care enough to explain.

"Now, I'd prefer if we kept the talking to a minimum, but I had to speak with you. I hear you're pretty good with a spear." I looked up at her curiously, we hadn't even begun training yet… how could see even know that?

"So let's say," She walked back to her table and found a red apple. "I were to put this apple on this table, right here, and I were to give you a spear. Would you be able to knock this apple off, without harming my pretty little table."

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, and she was by my side within seconds, handing me a spear. "I suppose I could, maybe… why?"

"Prove it," She ordered. I pulled back my arm, releasing the wood at the appropriate angle, and we watched as the spear knocked the apple off the table. The end of the shaft, however, clattered against the back of the table.

She starred for a moment, and then looked back at me. "Good enough… ladies!" Her shrill voice was most certainly heard through the entire building and the team was back, draping me in some kind of camouflage loincloth.

_ Oh, the originality is just palpable. _

-LATER-

Greg's skin was perfectly tanned and covered in oil; I couldn't refrain from smiling at the tight camouflage pants they'd stuck him in. His hair was spiked and colored to look like grass, and naturally, his face was painted brown. Then I remembered something not so funny.

I was wearing the same thing.

It wasn't comforting to know that all my friends, and all the people I respected, and the few that respected me, would see my prancing around a chariot barely covered in a slinky rag. It would be the first time they'd seen me since the Reaping.

I hope they knew it was all the Capitol, and that it wasn't me. I was still Mayrose.

Suddenly, Layla was by our sides, "My kids, oh you just look _so_ fantastic!"

Nivan, who'd silently followed, grunted his approval. Layla shot him a glance, but deemed him unworthy of her attention. "Anyway," she continued, "You can do whatever the hell you want, talk to each other, wave to the people—I just have two rules. You do not want to break these rules, right, Nivan?"

"Yes, you do not." Nivan deadpanned.

"Do _not _take off your clothes," She rolled her eyes, and I felt anger swelling in my chest. Did she honestly think we were that barbaric that we would embarrass ourselves like that in front of the entire population of Panem? Stupid bitch. "And when the Chariot passes the last of the TVs, Mayrose is going to throw her spear at this apple on your head." She paused, placing the apple in the stiff nest of Greg's hair. "And straight onto the target behind you."

I gaped and Greg was silent. "Seriously?" I asked. _Is this woman crazy?_

"Yes, seriously." She said, exasperated. Nivan and her left without saying goodbye and I knew why people hated Capitolites. In fact, I'd joined them.

I looked over at Greg. "I trust you." He shrugged, "I've seen you with a spear before, at least you're the one throwing the weapon, and not Alicia Vantures."

We both laughed at Alicia's expense, "Oh my _apple man_."

He frowned at me, "Please don't do that again."

"Do what again?" I smiled, feigning ignorance.

"Make a joke that bad."

I paused for a minute, pretending to review our conversation: "I didn't make any jokes."

"Apple man? Appleman? As in my last name." He shook his head at me.

"What a coincidence!" I exclaimed, "I just called you that!"

"Ha ha, May. It's ridiculous how funny you are." He said sarcastically and I beamed at him in response.

"Thank you!"

He grabbed hold of my hand and gave it a friendly squeeze, as a man shouting into a microphone gestured at us to follow him. We climbed into a grand chariot, adorned with a cursive nine, and I gripped onto my spear nervously.

We were steered into the massive crowd, and I smiled as hard as I could and as long as I could until we'd finally reached that last TV.

Let's just say, fortunately, Greg's still got his head.

**HEY EVERYONE! Sorry for the wait! I have a few quick notes. I had finals, so I didn't have time to update, unfortunately. I will try to update again tomorrow because I'm leaving for work and well… I probably won't get much writing done (I'm working at a sleepaway camp). I also realized you couldn't see my time-shift lines, so now it's –LATER- and A BIG SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA KID ON FANFICTION. What a great kid. :D Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it! Please leave a review! **


	12. District 10 Training

**District 10**

**Female: Aria Linial**

Male: Percival "Tiber" Tiberius

**(Aria Linial's P.O.V)**

"Tiber," I squeaked, grabbing onto his hand as we followed districts one through nine into the training room. The lights were too bright and the ground was too hard and I could hear my heart pounding while I gaped at the expanse of the training center. My eyes didn't even know where to start

He gave my hand a squeeze, "This is nothing, Aria." I frowned at his lack of understanding, but I guess it wasn't uncharacteristic of him. Tiber had lived on the opposite side of our district, and from my knowledge was some type of gang leader. I really couldn't follow his explanations of the streets and I felt infinitely younger than him, despite he was only thirteen. And I was fourteen.

I was surprised when he didn't pull his hand away immediately, but of course he did eventually. He started off in the direction of a table covered in an array of plants. I followed him and the trainer there had already dosed off. Tiber grabbed the book off the trainer's lap and stuck a twig in his hair.

"Let's play a little game," Tiber grinned at me. "Edible of Not."

"Sounds like a blast," I sighed, dropping into the chair next to the table and pulling up a rounded leaf. "So?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Not," He answered confidently, "It's Indian Hellebore."

I shook my head in response. "Wrong, it's False Solomon's Seal, so it is edible."

"No, it's definitely Indian Hellebore." He said, stiffening and drawing away from me.

"I think I would know a little bit more about this than you." I responded, frowning at him. "It's a Solomon Seal."

He turned to the "S" portion of the book and pointed to the picture, "See… never mind."

"That's what I thought." I smiled, grabbing a yellow petal.

"Well I guess you can do something," He teased and I rolled my eyes in response:

"Edible, again."

He shoved the book into my hands, "Prove it."

"Okay," I laughed, disregarding the book and shoving the petal into my mouth.

"Aria!" He exclaimed, jumping towards me.

I swallowed. "Chill out, it's only a sun flower." He glared at me before we continued.

It turns out that Tiber had little to no knowledge on edible plants, and I had to stop myself multiple times from asking if he'd ever seen a plant in person before. I tried not to be too hard on him though; I knew he'd be my teacher when we went to the hand-to-hand combat station.

I let him take a break and we both went our separate ways for about an hour. I found myself carving at a dummy with a pocketknife.

"Look at you," A tall blonde whispered at me, putting his hand on my lower back. I turned my face toward his, and instantly recognized him as the male tribute from District 6. "Wow, beautiful and dangerous." He remarked.

I knew I should be drawing away from him but there was something in his voice, in his hand resting gently on my skin. In his blue eyes.

"Lionel Carter," he smiled, "And what can I call you?"

"Aria," I gasped; my palm sweaty on the cool rubber handle of the knife.

Lionel tugged on my braid absentmindedly, and I let myself break eye contact for a second, "I was thinking that maybe you and I could experiment… with knife-handling tomorrow."

In the brief minute when his eyes weren't locked on mine, I caught a girl watching us intently. There was something in her eyes too, something that made me pull away from him, and I could hear her thoughts in my own mind.

_That bitch._

"Um… I don't know." He looked puzzled at the fact I'd rejected him, and honestly I was as well. I didn't get that many suitors back home, and now, days from my death, the most attractive boy I'd ever seen was asking to spend time with me… just the two of us?

"Aria?" Tiber called from across the room. "You want to go get some lunch."

I practically ran to Tiber, "Sure." He stared at me questioningly and as we left I turned to look at Lionel, now standing with the girl from his district, her name had slipped my mind, they were laughing about something and she helped him undo a few knots. She looked up at me and shot me a weak smile.

_Sorry._ I thought, hoping she'd hear me too.

**I hope you like, I wanted to get these two up seeing as my updates may or may not be coming for the next few weeks. Please leave me a review; I would love that. **** Sorry these are getting shorter, I'd just rather get to the meat, and I think it might be nice for you guys if they were a little more concise. I hope you're all having a wonderful summer so far! Shout out to my beta, Kid on Fanfiction!**

**B**


	13. District 11 Reaping

**District 11**

**Female: Roz Tantis**

Male: Aren Almia

**(Roz Tantis's P.O.V)**

The trees towered over my head as I attempted to swing from a branch. My eyes fell on a group of giggling Twelve's beneath me, they ripped the leaves from the trees, sticking them to their noses and sending them torpedoing down forty feet. I shook my head when I heard the sound of a patrol troop, their hard white boots stumbling over the roots and soft orchard floor.

I sprinted, jumping from limb to limb. I didn't want to be there when they arrived. Out of breath, I collapsed against a tree, covered with swollen peaches. I took my time filling my pack, before deciding it would just be best to return to check in and see how close I was to filling my day's quota.

Fortunately, with the peaches and a couple cherries I'd grabbed on the way down, I'd just reached the high standard they'd set for the day. The peacekeepers had long ago retired "work hours", instead they simply set a standard that would be likely to keep us even longer than what even the Capitol would deem appropriate. The majority of the workers would still be here for another solid three hours. But then again, those people had distractions—friends_ and_ families.

I exited the electric gates and found myself suddenly back in the dirty, urban housing developments of District 11. Passing by the mostly open stores, the keepers eyed me suspiciously. I wanted to yell at them for making their distain so blatant. I was a human being!

I quickened my pace until I reached the grocery store. I slipped in, "Liese?"

"Is that you Roz?"

"Yes ma'am," I answered, finding the gray woman sitting at a poorly illuminated counter. She was quiet a moment as she attempted to count the days profit.

"I'm glad you came tonight Roz. I have something to give to you," She pulled her shaking hand from the counter and tucked it in her wrap.

"You don't need to give me anything, Liese," I responded, collecting the few crumpled bills and wrapping them in a stained bandana. I opened the counter and guided her up the stairs to where we both slept.

Liese ran the local grocery store, and I'd met her when I was just seven. I was a street urchin then, just as I am now. She saved herself from my thievery by giving me a warm, dry place to sleep. She was a gentle woman; she was my only family.

"I was about to close shop, I thought you'd be out tonight." She breathed, limping over to her scratched up dresser. She struggled with the top drawer for a few minutes until she forced it open. When she placed it in my hand it was cold and foreign. I held it under a weak light to find a tarnished medallion.

"Thank you, Liese, this is much more than I deserve."

"Think of it as a good luck charm… the last thing I need is my employee of the month abandoning me to get her head cut off in the Capitol."

I forced a smile, and then headed back downstairs. It was eight when I opened the doors to the customers. With such demanding work schedules, night was the only time the majority of people could get their shopping done. As normal, there weren't many of them.

It was finally twelve—which meant closing time. As I pulled down the heavy rusted gate and fumbled with a lock, Aren Almia began to pound on the door.

Everyone in eleven knew Aren, mostly for his high energy level and his success with the girls.

"Please let me in!" He begged with his charming voice, even to me, the most judgmental of all critics, he didn't look desperate enough to reject.

I pushed up the heavy metal gate and let him slip inside. It was then I noticed the tall, stringy blonde that was glued to his side. "Get whatever you want, baby."

I felt my fist clench at my side. "Quickly," I practically spit at them, and the two lovebirds scattered around the store. I charged him more than I ought to—mostly because of personal inconvenience. His tramp pouted her lip at me and in response, and I kindly shoved them out the door. It'd been a long day.

I locked up, and slipped into the back corner of the store where I usually slept. I curled up under a blanket and waited anxiously until dawn.

Nothing particularly worth mentioning occurred between then and the time that Julianette called my name.

My name. I blinked twice and the crowd became anxious. They stepped away from me as if I had the plague, creating a path to the stage. I hadn't spent all of these years fighting to survive on the streets just to lose it all so quickly. I couldn't go to the games, I just couldn't.

But I am. And I am going to win.

I waited expectantly to see the boy I'd get to kill. Hopefully it'd be Peten, the tool had grabbed on to me as I walked on the street. It didn't take much to get away, but his intentions were enough to make my blood boil.

My rage subsided as I saw him walk up to me, he flashed me a smile and the girls wept. Aren Almia shook my hand. His skin was really soft.

**Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, only one more reaping. HALLELUJIAH! Thanks again to Kid on Fanfiction! (My lovely beta) Please review and send me any ideas/alliances/romances you're interested in your tribute partaking in.**

**Hopefully twelve will be up soon! I'm so excited to get to the meat of the story!**

**B**


	14. District 12 Training

**District 12**

Female: Liath Erien

Male: Jonas Trenton

**(Liath Erien's P.O.V.)**

"You're coming with us," He barked, latching onto my arm and dragging me towards the elevator. I pulled back from him—kicking and biting; but he was too strong. His friend grabbed the trophy from where I tucked it in my coat, and the two of them shoved me into the elevator.

His friend spat at me as the door closed, "Filthy little seam girl." I ran a hand through my hair, and turned towards the wall of buttons. I'd never been left on my own to navigate this thing. I pushed the first one I saw, the highest on the wall.

_ Even here, I get caught. _I thought bitterly. I figured if I'd just had one thing to send back to my parents, they'd be okay… at least for a little while. But now, well I guess they'd just have to fend for themselves.

When I'd been reaped, I knew that the real trouble was theirs. My twin sister, Arica, hadn't lifted a finger in her entire life and my parents' income simply wouldn't suffice. I imagined the countless hungry nights they'd spend together—after I was gone.

The doors opened and it occurred to me I should probably be on my way down to the training center. I stepped out of the elevator and could instantly feel the sun and the wind. I stumbled around confused for a moment before finally making my realization. I'd come to the roof.

I spun on my heel only to find the elevator slowly descending and me left without anyway down.

My chest grew tight and I could feel the edges of the building coming closer and closer. I could see the entire Capitol from up here. Up… shit, this was a tall building.

"You okay there, Liath?" I jumped at the sound of his voice. "Relax, it's only me." Jonas Trenton, my district partner laughed, slapping his large hand on my back.

"I'm fine," I lied through tight teeth. I was most definitely not fine, I was completely shaken by the fact I could be overpowered so easily. Those peacekeepers couldn't have been any bigger than a small career.

"Sure you are," Jonas chuckles, and I glare daggers at his back. He nonchalantly chews on an apple and walks towards the edge.

_ Don't go any closer. _

He's touching the railing, leaning over and sticking his head over the side.

_Stop! Stop! Stop!_ "Stop!"

Jonas turned back towards me, and I felt my cheeks blush. He threw me a half-grin, and then tossed his apple absent-mindedly over the edge.

It bounced back and landed at my feet. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow… what the-

"Force-field," he smiled knowingly, and I clenched my jaw. "Come on, scaredy-cat."

-Later-

I cast my eyes around the room, searching for any evidence of an alliance. I wrote off the careers. They always roll the same way.

It was harder than I imagined because everyone seemed to be getting on well. With the exception of District 6—they clung to each other desperately. Something about their dependency made me uncomfortable, but I couldn't place what it was.

Victoria and Rat were at the knife station, and both seemed nice. I watched as a girl from the livestock district attempted to tie a knot nearby.

_Perhaps the Games wouldn't be too hard this year. _

Meriem, an older girl, eyed me carefully as I observed the other tributes. I walked towards the camouflage station in hopes of getting out of her radar, but instead practically crashed into Aren Almia, "Watch it, Liath." He smiled and I felt my heart nervously sputter. He stared down at me for a moment longer, "Need a hand?"

We spent the next forty-five minutes or so painting intricate circles onto each other's skin in the sickest shades of green. "What are you thinking about, Aren?" I questioned once my heart had stopped fluttering.

"Nothing much…" He trailed off, searching for another paint. We'd made a mess of the station, but I guess that can happen sometimes.

"I meant about the games. Where do you think you stand?"

He raised an eyebrow at me: "Where I stand? I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Just wondering," I breathed defensively. Wiping his hard work off my arms and making a move to stand up.

"Don't be upset, but eventually one of us will be dead. If not both of us, and well… I need to protect myself."

"Of course," I said a bit too harshly and made my way to the archery station. It was about time I gave someone else a turn.

Aren was clearly just not interested. In me. In an alliance. In anything and anyone.

Of course, I thought that until sheep-girl skipped over to him.

"You okay?" District 3's sketchy male tribute asked me, his bony hand on my shoulder.

"Not really," I huffed and made my way to the corner of the training room where I hoped no one would follow. I'm never lucky enough for that though, and Jonas pops up once again.

"Looks like someone could use a training buddy."

"No thanks…" I responded curtly but he was already sitting down next to me.

He stared at the other tributes in silence, I felt uncomfortable, as if he was having a silent conversation.

"Uh… what're you-" He didn't let me finish:

"That girl, she's gorgeous." He pointed out District 6's tribute, "But every time someone even turns their head her direction the guy jumps them."

"Alright." I answer, not quite sure what he wants me to say.

"It just got me thinking," He paused, looking up at me quite decidedly. "Let's be allies."

I sputtered for a minute, caught off guard and then I noticed Meriem's eyes on us. "Let's talk about it later."

**The reapings are done, next are training scores and interviews. If you guys would like me to do a general chapter for the chariot rides, though they've happened, I could toss that in. Otherwise, I'm thinking I'll just skip to scores. Also, Liath needs to let me know if she's interested. In fact if you want an alliance, let's go for it. Send me a PM or put it in your review! I hope you guys liked this chapter!**


	15. Training Scores

I waited with my mentor, escort and fellow tribute for the training scores to finally be released. My bones ached and my heart pounded. Finally, in black sans serif, they made there way across the screen. I crossed my fingers, hoping the results would secure me a sponsor or two:

**District 1**

Female: Fleur Puissance—10

Male: Hail Salvador—8

**District 2**

Female: Ebony Darknight—9

Male: Prince Salines—10

**District 3**

Female: Darcy Carr—7

Male: Rathbone "Rat" Hurwits—5

**District 4**

Female: Gwylan Thyme—11

Male: Trigeminus Bellarmine—9

**District 5**

Female: Winter Kitico—3

Male: Ibis Keefe—8

**District 6**

Female: Sarabella (Sabby) Bennett—5

Male: Lionel Carter—9

**District 7**

Female: Victoria Boettcher—8

Male: Shock Coolidge—8

**District 8**

Female: Meriem DiLaurentis—12

Male: Ribbon Muse—8

**District 9**

Female: Mayrose Lockhart—7

Male: Gregory Appleman—3

**District 10**

Female: Aria Linial-7

Male: Percival "Tiber" Tiberius—10

**District 11**

Female: Roz Tantis—9

Male: Aren Almia—6

**District 12**

Female: Liath Erien—4

Male: Jonas Trenton—7

I've started a sponsoring system. For each review you leave starting now, you'll receive 2 sponsor points. You'll also receive sponsor points for suggesting ideas, based on the amount you help me out. I hope this will make it fairer for everyone. Also, I'm drawing blood-bath characters from a hat; so don't get upset if yours is drawn. From the remaining tributes, I will determine the winner.


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